february

Last year at this time, I was doing much the same thing as I'm doing today. Packing and getting ready to move. Last year, I moved more than 1000 miles. This year, probably not quite a mile, from the SLRH to the - well, not sure what to call it yet - but we will own it someday. Last year at this time I was divorcing. This year, marrying.

Like the seasons, life repeats itself over and over again. And I wonder if we're all running in circles, or if it's the details that make each cycle new and different in some ways.

Unlike many people, I despise routine. Not a good thing when one works at home, where it's best to establish a "work day" routine. Sometimes I brush my teeth before I wash my face just to mix things up a little. Lately, I'm thinking, a little routine would do me good. Seems like every day is a new challenge - a new adventure (that sounds much better). And each morning starts with the same questions? Should I pack this morning? Work a little? Check my mail? Clean? Call my mother? The only constant seems to be the coffee - and this week I ran out of that sweet Irish creme additive, throwing my mornings way off. And If I pack, where do I start? If I work, where do I start? Maybe I should check my account balances as new home ownership can be expensive (ching, ching.)

And so I wonder through each day, jumping from one place to another, wondering if it's worth taking a shower just to get dirty again. What I know is that there is no quick way to do all this. I must pack one box at a time, knowing that in a few days I will be unpacking one box at a time. (There's that cycle again.)

February...hard to believe. And I am here, in South Dakota, where everything is frosted with white icing and the temperatures are predicted to be the coldest in 10 years. This, I suppose is one of those details that makes things different. This and the fact that when I wake up each morning, two sweet dogs lick my face and a friendly kitty crawls across my chest. And from the bathroom, I hear the sound of the shower. Reaching towards the night stand, I find a cup of hot coffee just the way I like it, left by a man who thinks I'm worth keeping around. When I get out of bed, I will make him a cup of hot chocolate, and we will sit at the kitchen table and spend 10 minutes talking before the day begins. This routine I love...this I will keep at the house that doesn't yet have an acronym. (Suggestions welcome.)